Strangers on a Bridge
by Disasteriffic Kaz
Summary: Tag to 11x23 "Alpha and Omega". Once, Sam thought dying was the worst thing that could happen. Turns out living is actually the harshest torture anyone could inflict - living in a world that no longer contained his brother. hurt!Sam, caring!Dean, depictions of torture


**Title:** Strangers on a Bridge

 **Author:** Disasteriffic Kaz

 **Info:** Tag to 11x23 "Alpha and Omega". Once, Sam thought dying was the worst thing that could happen. Turns out living is actually the harshest torture anyone could inflict - living in a world that no longer contained his brother.

 **Author's Note:** By its very nature, this story WILL be completely AU once season 12 starts. Lol We're playing in that gray space between seasons when all we have to go on are a few juicy clips and dreams of whump and angst. I blame Sheilah, and Kathy, Laurie, and Janice for this one. I was happily working on chapter 2 of 'Bewitched, Bothered and Devoured' when they tossed this plot bunny into my lap like a damn grenade and … boom. One shot. Enjoy ladies! Hope this tickles your craving for now. Lol

 **Beta'd by the always awesome JaniceC678**

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em but if I did, they'd never get dressed.

 _ **~Reviews are love~**_

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Sam slumped in his chair. He looked blearily down at his legs – at the numerous, bloody and charred holes in his legs – and wished they would just get it over with already. They had left him alone for once, but he didn't bother trying to escape. He already knew that wouldn't work. Sam couldn't stop the snort of laughter that escaped him. "Smart… smart bad guys," he muttered and shook his head. "Bolt the chair… to the… to the floor." Days earlier he had tried to free himself, had thrown his considerable bulk against his bonds and the chair only to learn the chains were heavy and many and some genius had bolted the legs of the sturdy chair straight into the ground. He wasn't going anywhere if they didn't let him.

"You find something funny, Sam?"

Sam jerked in his bonds as the sound of Toni's voice startled him. "Your… your face."

Lady Bevell studied her prisoner with a clinical eye as she walked around him and sighed. "I think we'll have to try something else today."

Sam snorted weakly but didn't bother raising his head to look at her. "F'you're gonna… gonna start cutting things off… right arm." He chuckled softly. "S'gonna end up arth… arthritic anyway. Too many… many breaks."

"You're awfully complacent for someone who's endured what you have the last three days." Toni went to the small table in the corner and took a black bag from the corner, pulling it open. "All you need do is tell me where your brother is and all this can stop." She shrugged and turned back to him. "You won't go free, of course. You're clearly too dangerous to humanity to leave unattended, but a prison cell will seem like heaven after this."

That earned her a full laugh from Sam, and he finally did lift his head. "Been there. Too many dick angels."

Toni scowled and turned back to the bag. "You'll tell me, Sam."

"Already did." Sam let his head drop back so he was staring up at the ceiling and blinked lazily. "Dead." He felt tears gather in his eyes yet again and, this time, couldn't stop them from falling to trickle down the sides of his face toward his ears. "Saved the world." He groaned. "Even saved you. Sadly."

"And how, supposedly, did your brother die?" Toni pulled a syringe from the bag and a vial of clear liquid before turning to watch Sam. She leaned against the table and carefully drew a measure out of the vial and into the syringe. She glanced over when the door opened and nodded to her compatriot. "Just in time, Gemma."

"Ready for another round are we?" Gemma smoothed her black hair back into a ponytail before going to Toni and retrieving her cattle prod from the table. "Shall I tenderize him before or after?"

"There's no need to be crude," Toni admonished.

"Sorry, your ladyship." Gemma grinned, showing she was unrepentant, even before a lady.

Toni rolled her eyes at the woman and then went to Sam and knelt in front of him. "Where is Dean?"

"Atoms." Sam shook his head and rolled it forward to look at her. "Nothing left to bury. Go to hell." He chuckled and followed Gemma with his eyes as she walked up beside him. "Actually, don't." He smirked up at her. "Crowley… probably like you."

Toni swallowed her frustration and shoved up his right sleeve. "I didn't want to use drugs, Sam. I find them distasteful, but as you won't cooperate…" She trailed off and slid the needle into his arm. She was concerned he would fight the injection, but he remained calm and still. It was unnerving really, the way he seemed to give himself over to their ministrations no matter how brutally painful. She injected the serum and stood. "Truth serum, if you like. Given your history and well documented stubbornness, you've left me no choice to find the truth." She shook her head. "I really didn't believe you would hold out this long. Five or ten minutes and you'll tell me anything I want to know, including the location of your brother."

Sam closed his eyes and let his head fall forward again. Holding it up took too much energy and he had so little left. "Just kill me." He meant it. The moment the sun had returned, Sam had felt his world crumble forever. He had returned to the bunker with Castiel, but he'd known in his heart he was done. In the back of his mind, where the angel wasn't likely to hear it, Sam had already been considering when he could reasonably end his own life and join Dean in the void. He had decided that once they recaptured or destroyed Lucifer, that would be the time, that he could survive that long alone. He opened his eyes when he heard the crackle of the cattle prod and looked up at his captor. "There's nothing else to tell. He's gone." He smiled sadly and looked down as he felt Gemma move up behind him. "And I'm done."

"Get his adrenaline flowing, would you, Gemma?" Toni crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the table again. "That will help the serum work faster."

"With pleasure."

Sam tensed with the woman's cheerful voice in his ear. He felt the stab of the prongs into his back and a second later, the current shot through him. He threw his head back and shouted in pain while all the muscles in his body seized. It seemed to last forever before she took the prod away, and Sam slumped, gasping for breath. He coughed and slit his eyes open a crack to find Gemma watching him with a smile. "You're a… a bitch." He grinned at her even as she jammed the prod under his left shoulder. He heard his voice filling the room again but was far beyond caring. Sweat dripped down his face and neck and beneath his tattered shirt. It burned into his many wounds anew. He was just beginning to tune out Gemma's taunts and go away in his head again when she drove the prod into the bullet wound in his left thigh. That pain proved to be too much and darkness swirled into his mind, taking him away from all of it.

When he woke, it was with a gasp as frigid water rained down over his head. Sam coughed and shivered weakly and opened his eyes to find Toni standing before him again. He groaned. "Not dead then."

"Of course I'm not." Toni said with a scowl.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Meant me. Not… not you. But that'd be g-good too."

Toni nodded. She pulled a second chair over and sat in front of him, waving Gemma off with a hand. "Where is your brother, Sam? Where's Dean?"

"Dead." Sam met her eyes, or tried to. His vision was blurry and indistinct at that point. "Keep telling you. Dead." He sniffed through his broken nose though it hurt and looked away. "Let him go."

"You let him go where?" Toni leaned forward and settled her hand above the bullet wound in his thigh. She pressed down until he moaned and jerked from the pain. "Where did you let him go to, Sam?" She could see that the serum was working by the glazed look in his eyes. "Tell me. I know you want to tell me."

"Wish… wish it'd been me. Couldn't though." Sam felt another smile tug at his lips. "Started it. Didn't mean to." He shook his head slowly. "Didn't… didn't know. Just wanted the Mark gone." He let his head drop back to roll on his shoulders while his mind swam with the drug. "Saved Dean… an' killed him. I suck."

"Sam!" Toni grabbed his head and lifted it up. "Look at me! Where is your brother?"

"Void," Sam spat the word at her, feeling anger coil in his gut again. "Pissed off the… the reapers when Dean, when we… killed Death. Billie said… no more anything; just the void."

Toni frowned. "Who is Billie?" It was a name she wasn't familiar with, and she had done her research on the brothers well.

"Reaper." Sam licked his lips and would have shrugged if his arms were still obeying him. "Doesn't like us. Don't blame her. Wouldn't like… like us either. Killed her boss. S'dick move."

Toni let his head go and sat back. "Where is Dean now?"

"Are you stupid?" Sam narrowed his eyes, trying to get them to focus and peered at her. "S'that it? You guys have… have stupid… stupid heads over there?" He chuckled. "Idiots of letters."

"Gemma," Toni said and sat back. She watched dispassionately as Gemma jammed the cattle prod into Sam's side, as he screamed in agony and then slumped in relief when it stopped. "Where is Dean?"

"Dead!" Sam yelled it angrily, or tried to but his voice was little more than a hoarse whisper. "He's… he's gone. S'gone. M'alone now."

Toni shook her head when Gemma held up the prod and watched Sam's lolling head. The serum was working. She knew it was, and yet, other than becoming far more honest and rude in his comments about her, his tune had not changed. Even with the drug demanding the truth from him, he still insisted his brother was dead. "Sam." She leaned forward and this time opted for gentle. She slid her hands along his jaw and gently lifted his head so she could see his face again. "Sam, I need to you tell me. Are you lying to me? Are you lying about anything?"

Sam blinked tiredly. "No. Keep tellin'… but you're stupid letters lady."

"Well, bloody hell." Toni let his head go and sat back again. "I think he might actually have been telling the truth this whole time."

"You mean I don't get to play with the one with the pretty lips?" Gemma pouted and lowered the cattle prod. "I really wanted to listen to him sing."

Toni felt a stirring of guilt as she looked at the broken man before her. And she began to understand that it was nothing they had done to him that had broken Sam; it was the death of his brother. She reached out again to touch him and stopped as the door opened and one of the thugs her superiors had hired for her stuck his head in. "What is it?"

"Uh, your ladyship. Got a call you probably wanna take." The man grinned and held up a phone.

"Fine. I'll be back, Sam. Gemma, leave him be until I return." Toni met the woman's gaze and waited for the grudging nod before she left.

Sam listened to her leave and flinched as he felt Gemma tapping the cattle prod along his shoulders without turning it on. "Dean would… would've kicked your… your ass."

Gemma chuckled and considered zapping the man again. She decided against it, knowing Lady Toni was likely to hear the scream, and there were few things more boring than being yelled at by an aristocrat. "Do you think someone's coming to save you?"

Sam chuckled even as fresh tears escaped his eyes. He shook his head. "Dean. If Dean were… always saves me." He closed his eyes. "Not anymore. S'ok. Jus' kill me, alright?" He looked up in Gemma's direction then. "Mean it. Let me go. M'ready."

Gemma scowled at the defeated tone in the man's voice. "You're taking all the fun out of torturing you. It's very annoying." She startled as badly as Sam did when the door slammed open and Toni stormed back into the room.

"You bastard." Toni stalked across the room and tore the cattle prod out of Gemma's hand. "More than just a pretty face, aren't you, Sam?" She slammed the prod into his stomach and listened to him scream while her anger coursed through her. "I almost believed you! Lying through the truth serum. That's impressive."

"Wha'?" Sam gasped and howled again when she jolted him with the prod a second time. His mind was a whirl of confusion and he could barely hear anything else over the roaring of his own blood in his ears.

"What's happened?" Gemma asked and took a step back. She didn't entirely trust the lady not to use the prod on her, given the dark look on her face.

"His brother's alive is what's happened." Toni drove the prod into the bend of Sam's neck and watched him scream until he went limp and then she threw it away with a clatter. "The man I left behind spotted Dean entering the bunker. He's left again with that angel of theirs and a woman." She briefly considered killing Sam then and there, but logic won out over temper. If Dean put up too much of a fight, she could always use Sam as leverage. "Come on. Jackson can watch him. We're going to get Dean."

Sam heard Toni's voice speaking from a distance as he sat helpless in his chair. He couldn't even lift his head, but he heard his brother's name and Castiel's. He hoped she was going after Cas and he dearly hoped the angel smited her with prejudice. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, senseless. The voices went away. Someone poked him in the shoulder. He finally stopped floating and tried to lift his head up when his neck protested at being bent backward that way. He groaned softly and rolled his head to the right until it fell forward.

"Back with us?"

Sam blinked in confusion, hearing a man's voice. He cracked his eyes open and could just make out a dark figure sitting in front of him. "Who?" He coughed when a cloud of smoke was blown in his face. It made his eyes water and his nose burn and he turned his face away while the man chuckled.

"Man, what'd you do to piss off her highness?" He shook his head, taking in the damage to the man in front of him. "Surprised she hasn't taken pieces off you yet."

"Give… give her time." Sam coughed weakly and frowned. "Where's… Toni?"

"Dunno." The man shrugged and took another drag on his cigarette. He blew the cloud into Sam's face again. "I'm just the hired help. She don't tell me shit." He kicked Sam's left leg and smirked as it earned him a strangled, pained shout. "She even bother diggin' the bullet outta there?" he asked, nodding to Sam's thigh.

"Don't think… she cares." Sam let his head fall forward again, coughing through another cloud of smoke.

"Reckon not." The man shook his head again and checked his watch. "Five long, boring hours, if you're interested," he said and nodded when Sam's head twitched up to peer at him for a moment. "How long since she blew outta here hell bent for… well, for wherever. I'd'a played with you after she left with that other stuffy Brit chick, but she ordered me not to." He leaned forward with a smile. "Between you and me, normally, I don't much care what a woman tells me to do, but that lady kinda makes me nervous."

"S'cause she's… she's nuts." Sam looked over when the door opened and groaned again as he let his head drop. "Oh… oh, goody. Bitch is back."

"Get him up," Gemma ordered.

"What the hell happened to you?" The man stood and took in her black eye and bleeding lip.

"Just get him up, Jackson. Leave the chains and get him in the back of the van." Gemma went to the corner of the room while Jackson shrugged and moved behind Sam to start freeing him from the chair. She bent with a wince and picked up the cattle prod Lady Toni had thrown there and turned back to Sam. "Your lucky day, Sam," she said darkly. She strode over and slammed the end of the prod to the inside of his hip, listening to it spit and pop while Sam shouted hoarsely. She didn't care as Jackson stumbled back, cursing and holding his fingers.

"You crazy bitch! Warn a guy!" Jackson yelled.

"I said get him up." Gemma pointed the prod at him meaningfully. "Or I'll take care of it myself after I'm done with you."

Sam listened to all of it but was in no condition to say anything after the last jolt. He couldn't even take advantage of his freed hands once Jackson unshackled him. He would have slumped over straight to the floor if not for the other man grabbing his shoulders.

"Christ, kid." Jackson hastily handcuffed Sam's hands in front of him, not that he thought Sam could fight his way out of a wet paper bag anymore. "This is gonna suck for you."

Sam frowned slightly at the warning, and then Jackson tipped him over his shoulder and stood up with him. Sam had thought he'd reached his limit on pain, but having Jackson's shoulder digging into his stomach added a new level. He could feel the half-healed burns from the blow torch tear open and begin to bleed again. His only consolation as they bumped along through the building and outside was the moment his stomach had enough and he vomited down the back of Jackson's right leg. He couldn't stop the slow smile that spread over his face while Jackson cursed, and it was worth the extra hard thump he was given into the back of the van.

Sam opened his eyes and snorted, seeing the days old stains of his own blood from the last time he had been there. He let his abused body collapse into the rough pile of the carpet while Jackson slammed the hatch with a bang. He felt oddly euphoric; they were finally going to kill him. He heard Gemma and Jackson get into the front and listened to the rumble of the engine before they started moving. He felt someone's hand, probably Jackson's, slide over his elbow and tug at his cuffs to be sure he was secure.

"Could just… toss me here," Sam whispered. His voice refused to gain any volume above that; it had been abused one too many times with his screams. "No one left to… to care." His captors remained stoically silent and left him blissfully alone as they drove. He drifted in and out through the drive and wondered why they felt the need to drive so far to dump his body. He startled out of a light doze when the van bumped over uneven ground and finally came to a stop. A few moments later, his friend Jackson was back opening the hatch and dragged him out by his feet.

"Puke on me again and I'm shootin' out the other knee," Jackson snarled before he pulled Sam up over his shoulder again.

Gemma slapped Jackson's elbow angrily. "Shut up and move. This way."

Sam managed to lift his head for a moment and saw trees. "Hiking? Really?" He grunted in fresh pain when Gemma's fist hit the side of his head and closed his eyes once more.

They stopped at last, and Sam gave a breathless yelp as he was shrugged aside and fell through the air. It surprised him when he hit the ground a moment later. He had been expecting to be tossed from a cliff. "S'happening?" He groaned and coughed as Jackson grabbed him under the arms and stood him up. He was turned roughly and found himself facing an old, wooden bridge. The forest rose up high above his head to either side, and mist obscured the middle of the bridge.

"Walk," Gemma ordered while Jackson propped Sam against the left rail of the bridge.

"What?" Sam did try to take a step and toppled to his knees instead. "Forget your… boss shot… shot me?"

"You're going to walk, Winchester." Gemma helped Jackson pick Sam up again and propped him against the rail until Sam had managed to get his shaking hands up to grasp it. She held her hand out until Jackson handed her the key and then uncuffed Sam before stepping away.

"Why?" Sam coughed, trying to clear his throat and speak up. "Why not just… just shoot me?"

"Walk across the damn bridge or I will give you another hole to worry about," Gemma promised angrily. She gave him a shove and nodded when he staggered forward, nearly hopping, but kept to his feet.

Sam sighed and leaned heavily over the rail. He looked over the side and saw a deep ravine below him. He looked up again and shook his head as he watched the swirling mist ahead of him. "Fine. What… whatever." He hoped they would tire of toying with him soon and put him out of his misery. Sam slowly pulled himself along the rail. His left leg dragged uselessly behind him, and he panted for air as he navigated the gentle slope up of the bridge; even that almost too much for his weary body.

It was eerily quiet on the bridge as Sam moved. Every moment, he expected the sound of a shot and a bullet to the back, but it never came. The tension made him shake far worse than just exhaustion or injuries, and his one not-so-good leg was barely holding his weight. He took a moment to curl over the railing again once he'd passed the hump at the top of the bridge and just tried to catch his breath. He couldn't understand what it was they were hoping to accomplish, unless this was just another game to toy with him. He coughed while fresh tears welled in his eyes. He was so tired. He just wanted it to be over. Sam opened his eyes and looked over the side. The mist hid most everything around him, but he could hear the faint sound of running water somewhere far below. If he tipped his weight just a little further, he could fall and end it himself.

New sounds came through the air and Sam tensed. He lifted his head and listened; footsteps. He turned back to the drop below him, expecting Gemma or Jackson to appear and then realized the steps were coming from the wrong direction. He gritted his teeth together and slowly straightened, using the rail to hold his ailing body up. The mist swirled in front of him. A dark shadow appeared, and, as it grew closer, Sam realized it was Toni. He flinched into the rail, ready to throw himself over, and then his eyes dropped down to her hands; they were handcuffed tightly in front of her. He jerked his gaze back up to her face as she neared and stared. "What? Why are…"

"I'll find you again, Sam," Toni promised him as she drew abreast of him. Her hands clenched into fists even as the metal of the cuffs cut off the circulation. "This isn't over."

Sam shook his head and pressed against the rail as she slowly headed past him back toward Gemma's side of the bridge. "I don't understand."

Toni gave a harsh laugh as she left him behind. "Story of your life, I'd say. Good luck, Sam. You and that family of yours are going to need it soon."

Sam's mind spun with confusion as she vanished into the mist again. He watched for a moment, expecting her to turn around and shoot him, but the sound of her steps gradually faded. He turned back to where she had come from and started pulling himself along the railing again. He had no idea what was happening or why she had been handcuffed, but if he was somehow getting away from her, he would take it. Sam gritted his teeth together and continued down the other side of the bridge. His body however had decided enough was enough, and his right leg collapsed under him. Sam crashed to the bridge and rolled several times until he banged into the railing on the other side and came to a stop. He gasped, trying to catch his breath and knew that he was done. He had no idea why he was still fighting and began to collapse down to his side.

Hands were suddenly there, pulling and tugging at his shoulders. Sam struggled feebly as they pulled him up so he was sitting. Then an oh-so-familiar work-roughened palm slid against his neck and squeezed and Sam's eyes shot open in disbelief even as his own name echoed in his ears. Dean held on to him, saying his name over and over while Sam stared at him in shock. "M'I dead?"

"What? Jesus, Sammy. No! No, you're not… God." Dean felt tears pricking at his eyes and he jerked Sam into him. He wrapped his arms around his brother's shoulders to hold on to him and tried not to scream at the damage he had already seen and the blood-stiff shirt he could feel under his hands. Sam was alive and he had him back. That was all that mattered. "We got you, Sammy. You're free. You're alive."

Sam shook his head in despair even as he breathed in the life-long, comforting scent of his brother - gun oil and old spice. He was cracking up. His always questionable sanity had finally taken a lethal blow; he knew it. "You're dead. Dean is… the Darkness…"

"Changed her mind," Dean finished in a voice gone hoarse with emotion as he held his shaking little brother against him. He glanced to his left as their mother and Castiel neared. "Chuck saved me, and Amara, she… well…" He rested his chin in Sam's hair and felt his brother's tears on the skin of his throat and knew that Sam was in no state of mind to be faced with a living, breathing mother. Dean raised a hand when he saw his mom coming closer and shook his head, gesturing back toward where they'd left the car. He met Cas' eyes when his mother frowned in confusion and was relieved to get a nod of understanding. He turned all his attention back to the quietly sobbing man in his arms, where it belonged.

Castiel took Mary's elbow gently and stopped her from going to her sons. He drew her back a few steps. "You should take the Impala back to the bunker. I'll take Sam and Dean home the, uh… the fast way." He spoke softly so as to keep Sam from overhearing and noticing Mary, though he wasn't sure Sam could hear anything other than his brother just then.

"But… Sammy! I have to…" Mary protested though even she kept her voice down.

"In his condition, he might not be able to handle the added shock of seeing you alive." Castiel gave her a sad smile. He didn't need to touch Sam to feel the agony flowing from him. Toni and her friends had not been kind. "Let us heal him and give Dean time to… try and explain."

"He's my son," Mary said angrily. She watched her boys holding each other so desperately at the foot of the bridge and it broke her heart. Of all the futures she had once dreamed of for her boys, this nightmare of hunting had never been in the cards.

"Yes, he is." Castiel began pulling her back toward the car and away from the bridge. "And your son has endured many things you're unaware of still. A blow to his sense of reality in his current state could be devastating." He sighed softly in relief when Mary seemed to give in and turned away from her boys.

"Someone _will_ be explaining that to me later." Mary turned a glare on the angel. "I want to know everything that's happened to my sons while I was… while I was gone." Castiel simply nodded and she let herself be led away.

Dean shifted so he was sitting more comfortably with Sam resting against him. He looked over the bridge, but he wasn't worried about Toni coming back with the troops. Even she wasn't crazy enough to break a deal made with an angel of the Lord.

"Don't understand," Sam said softly into his brother's shirt. "You… you died. Saved the… the world. How… why'd they just let… let me go?"

Dean nodded. He rubbed a hand gently along Sam's back, wary of causing him more pain but needing to give him whatever comfort he could in that moment. "Toni and her thugs jumped us." Dean sighed, remembering the fight and how their mom had shown that even being married and having kids hadn't dulled her fighting skills. "Damn near got us, too, but we beat 'em. Tied 'em up and convinced that British bitch that a hostage exchange was in her best interests." He tightened his grip on Sam. "Hardest thing I ever did was let that black-haired bitch walk away and hope she'd actually bring you to the meet." He blew out a breath and gently eased Sam back a little so he could see his face. "Cas is gonna zap us back to the bunker and we're gonna get you healed up, alright?"

Sam nodded, dazed by all that had happened. He looked at Dean, studied his face and the eyes that stared down at him so full of emotion. And he tried to believe. "Are you real?" he whispered. "I mean really… 'cause she really worked me over, and I don't… might be seeing things."

"I'm real, Sammy." Dean grabbed his brother's left hand and squeezed it tightly in his. "Stone number one, little brother. I'm right here. Swear to… well… swear to Chuck, I guess."

Sam gave a weak laugh at that and slumped shamelessly back into his brother. "Thought you were gone." He closed his eyes and couldn't stop shaking. "Wasn't gonna stick around, you know?"

Dean flinched at that but he nodded. "Yeah." He brushed Sam's hair back from his face and rested his chin on the top of his head. "I know." It hurt, knowing that his little brother had been planning his own death because he thought Dean had died, and yet, Dean knew he would have been doing the exact same thing if the situation had been reversed. He smiled and for once, didn't care about the tears that fell down his own face. "We are one screwed up couple'a kids, Sammy."

"Dean." Castiel spoke softly as he approached them and knelt beside the boys. "Are you ready?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, where's…" he stopped when he heard the distinctive rumble of the Impala's engine in the distance.

Sam jerked his head up and looked between his brother and the angel. "Who's driving your baby?"

"Uh, yeah, about that." Dean blew out a breath and shook his head. "I'll tell you later. That's gonna be… Later."

"Dean?" Sam watched the emotions passing across his brother's face and found he couldn't make sense of them; there were too many all at once.

"Don't worry about it. It's nothin' bad, I swear." Dean smiled for his brother and looked over at Cas. "Let's go. He's in bad shape."

"I can fix it," Castiel promised firmly. He hadn't found the time to tell Dean yet, but, after God and Amara had left, he had felt a rush of power; his grace had been restored and then some. He knew he could easily heal Sam of his physical injuries. He only hoped that he and Dean could help Sam navigate both the emotional scars he had just suffered and accepting the return of his dead mother.

Sam wrapped a hand around his brother's arm and gave his first, real smile in days. "Glad you're not dead."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, buddy. Me too."

Sam saw Cas' hand coming for his head and let his eyes fall closed on a wave of relief. "Even if you're a jer… jerk."

Dean gave a watery grin at the old endearment and held on to him more tightly as Castiel's fingers lightly touched his head. "Bitch."

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 _The End._

 _A/N: For those who didn't make the connection, Strangers on a Bridge refers to the 'Bridge of Spies' in Germany where they would sometimes make hostage exchanges during the cold war._


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